No Masterpiece

Now, as many of you had heard, I was planning on moving to the Masterpiece to take a job with Cramer. Well, apparently, that is now not the plan.

A good piece of fortunate news came my way on Thursday and I got offered a different job with the same company I work at now, which allows me to do the three things I want to do most:

1) Stay in Minnesota and not move to the Masterpiece so I can still be close to the love of my life Alison. So, that's one down, two to go.
2) Get an increase in salary. Yep, that mission is accomplished too
3) Change positions. That's the trifecta.

So, my new job here in Minneapolis will accomplish everything the job in the Masterpiece would have, except I get to stay by my girlfriend (alleviating some difficult decision making at this point) and a bunch of my friends.

So, this is good...

Guest Blog: The Wedding Story 2 w/director commentary

Introducing part two of the Kevin Urban saga, as told by my esteemed pal Justin Petredis. As you all remember, Kevin and Kristen met at the Trete's wedding and spent a "boff" filled weekend over Thanksgiving. Kristen is in the process of moving out to Vegas...and that's where our story begins. As always, I will fill in the details in red where I see fit. Enjoy!

Kristen recently got a job in Vegas. ( I understand it's tough to get a job there. Real hard.) Huber doesn't know where. I assume as a stripper. (Hooking is also legal in the Vegas. That's just an aside...kind of an FYI...not saying anything about Kristen) And she is moving out there on January 16th. (The Lord's Day) That is the date she moves into the condo. (Holy buckets. I wonder what kind of condo they can afford on her hooking...er, stripping salary) Kevin moves in later. Yes, they are living together. (Well...they've physically seen eachother twice...so why not?) They are leasing a condo about 8 miles off the strip. (8 miles??!!? Firk!) Kevin is giving up his nice, although small, apartment that was 1/4 block away from work, and 2 and 1/2 blocks away from the strip to move 8 miles off the strip in with a girl whom he first met drunk for 3 hours, went on a first date throughout the entire Thanksgiving holiday, and has only know for 83 days. I actually counted. (Um...Justin. That's just sad. Might want to keep that one to yourself. And this is coming from the guy who creates fake dialogues to amuse himself)

The last time Urban had a girlfriend, he was a Junior in college. (So...that's gotta be about 8 years...but what about do-rag girl??) I was a sophomore. Her name was Marley. (She sounds...special. Marley, eh? What was she, one of the Ghosts of Christmas?) She was nice. I never saw them kiss. (Not a great slogan for the Petredis Spy School...but I get your point) I think they broke up because he spent much more time with his "friend" Tash. (It's alllll making sense now) The last time she had a boyfriend, well that was the day she met Kevin, and they were living together and had been dating for 6 years. (Well, Kevin is charming) So with his vast experience with women, and the fact that she actually went from boyfriend to boyfriend without being single for one second, this relationship should be filmed for our enjoyment. (This would be a great reality show...rivaling "I Just Boffed Your Daughter" where we put dads into a living room, waiting for their daughters boyfriend to exit their daughters room. Hilarity ensues...)

Kristen is driving to Findley to meet Kevin, then meet Kelly, and Mr. and Mrs. Urban for the first time. (That shouldn't be awkward in the least..though the Urbans are finally glad to find out that Tash was indeed just a friend...) I hope the phrase, "Kevin where did you meet this whore again?" will be used at least once. (We don't know for sure she's a whore...it may be stripper, but I get the gist) His mother seems like a good candidate to drop the "whore" word. (I prefer play the Whore Card, but potato-tomato) I also hope Kelly gets drunk and really tells both of them her thoughts on the subject, because as you and I (and every other man at Miami knows) Kelly is an obnoxious drunk. (This is true...but I can't really say anything, because I have legendary exploits under the influence)

Sidenote: This really sucks. Not that they are getting together, but that Urban now lives 8 miles from the strip. (I concur. I mean, seriously...think of us) We have little incentive to see him now when we go to Vegas. (Nothing like using a man for his pad. Urban is a good egg though...but I loved that apartment) No more crashing for free, unless you want to catch a Taxi for 8 miles. (Nope) No more walking home. Actually no more crashing at his place. I would rather just stay in a bad hotel, but be able to walk to the good places. (Plus, then you wouldn't for sure have to see Kristen, unless you pass the street corner of Las Vegas Blvd and Flamingo...but perhaps I've said too much)

You know what sucks??

You know when you get back from the beach and sand has engulfed your entire person and all you want is to get it off yourself before you go all Jack Torrance on the next person who says a word to you? Then, when you finally get into the cool, refreshingly cooltastic shower and you get some of that sand in the bar of soap? Then, as you try to cleanse yourself of the smell of the beach, the little pieces of sand proceed to cut you as you move the bar of soap over your body? You remember that and how you wish it would never, ever, ever happen again?

Well, luckily, Irish Springs has managed to capture that feeling in their new bars of Irish Spring Micro Clean soap!! Yes, the tiny micro beads feel like little pieces of sand, knawing at your very soul until all you want to do is collapse into a tiny fetal ball in the corner of the shower and never feel anything again. So, Irish Springs, I salute you!

From what I understand, Neosporin is working on a lemon juice infused ointment for cuts! Mmmm...excalibur!!

The Gift...

"I can't believe you broke the ornament? Why the hell did you get them a sand dollar anyway?" Jillian yelled at me as we drove to my uncle's house.

"Umm...HE'S FROM IRAN, DUH!!" I yelled back.

"What in the hell does that mean? You're retarded!"

"I'm retarded? Did you hear that, she thinks I'm retarded. I'm retarded? Oh yeah, well......SHUT UP!!"

"That is the lamest thing I've ever heard. OK, we need to calm down. What's open on Christmas?"

"Ummm...Kvotzki's Deli?"

"I hate you."

"OK, let's see if we can stop in the Quick-O Mart."

"Do you really think they'll have a gift there? What are you going to get him; jerky and a 48 oz. cola?"

"Maybe they'll have sand dollars in there?"

"Get off your stupid sand dollar horse and get in the actual gift mode. You cheap bastard."

"HE'S FROM IRAN!!"

"Don't they have enough sand over there Hawking?"

"It'll remind him of home. I don't care, the gift is a sand dollar and if Jonny Giftman at Quick-O Mart doesn't have another sand dollar, I'm getting some Kra-Zee glue and putting that bitch back together."

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Next to you getting him a sand dollar because he's from Iran."

I pulled the car to a fast stop and went into the Quick-O Mart. Luckily, they did have a tube of Kra-Zee glue. I purchased it and came back to the car.

"See...Kra-Zee glue. Akmed is going to love it!" I said vicotiously.

"So, you just going to glue it together?"

"Umm...no, smart ass. I'm going to make Akmed glue it together himself."

"WHAT? You're going to give him a broken sand dollar...and a tube of Kra-Zee glue?"

"Yep. He'll love it. It'll be the three things Iranians love most: Sand, Puzzles and Glue."

"You are retarded."

*Thanks to The Vance for the virtual premise of this story. Keep fighting the good fight.*

Some Free Advice...

I was walking down the hall at LifeTime today, and sometimes when I walk, I'll kind of rap the last song I heard in the car to myself. So, as I was walking past this guy, this comes out of my mouth:

First tip is to nevah tip ah strippah

And, I just kept walking by him. As I turned to head out the door, I caught him out of the side of my eye, and he was standing there, staring at me with his mouth agape. So, I assume that he heard my potent advice and he was thinking either one of two things:

1) Why is he telling me that?
B) STUY!! Why didn't I think of that??

But, I guess we'll never know the true answer. Either way, it sounds like sage advice to me...

The Truth to Live By...

I hear pirate's don't like to call their peg-legs "peg-legs" anymore. Too many negative connotations. I guess they prefer to call them "portable replacement stick leggings", but then again, just because you call a midget a "little person", it doesn't change the fact that that bastard is still a midget...

The Urinal Oaf

I turned the corner into the Lifetime Fitness bathroom, and my worst fear was in the back of my mind, like it is whenever I enter a restroom.

I looked to the left. SNOK!! There was some guy who looked like a tall taco leaning against the wall, makin' noise in the left urinal.

I whipped around to my right, hoping that the right urinal was open. WERT!!! It was occupied by the creepy Asian dude in the green Speed-o.

That's when I realized my worst fear had come true! No, not that Yanni and John Tesh were forming a holy alliance to brain wash the country into choosing Capri-Sun over Kool Aid (though I do worry about that often). No, my greatest fear is that the only urinal available to use is...the middle urinal.

So, that left me with exactly three options:

A) Stand back and wait for Tall Taco of Sir Creeps-A-Lot to finish up and grab their urinal
2) Go into a stall and use the toilet, ninja style
D) Bite the bullet, and become the Oaf who takes the middle urinal, risking both the Taco and Creep-bot leaving and having it appear that I want other dudes to pee around me.

Since all the stalls were full, the ninja option was out of the question. And, since I had just consumed two Super Big Gulps (don't ask), I couldn't wait, because who knows how long the Taco would be peeing for. So, I bit the bullet and went with D.

Right as I sidled up to the urinal, I saw movement out of my left eye. YIK!! The Taco was shakin' it out! He was done!

The Taco backed away from the urinal, and it was just me and Creepzilla. But, I figure it takes him about 20 minutes to walk four feet, how fast can he...he's done too?? MILK!! He's backing away in his creepy walk and I'm still dispensing Super Big Gulp numero uno.

Now, I am living my worst fear. I'm all alone at the middle urinal and no one is on either side of me. I can jsut feel all eyes in the locker room on me. In my head, people are tapping eachother on the shoulder and pointing at me while saying, "Hey, look at that Oaf at the middle urinal. What a douche!"

Come urine!! Expel yourself from my body! Faster! Faster!

Finally, I was finsihed. No one had come to use either of the other two urinals, so maybe no one noticed. Hopefully. I backed away and headed to my locker.

As I passed a couple guys sitting on the bench, I heard one of them whisper, "Hey, there's that Oaf that was using the middle urinal! He made me have to use the stall, ninja style. What a douche!"

SPLORT! I suck.

The Archives...Feb. 15, 2005

Today, I have gone into the archives of my e-mail and pulled out an e-mail conversation between myself and Mr. Justin Petredis on Feb. 15, 2005. Enjoy!

Brent:
Here's your quote "this will be the GREATEST 3-DAY WEEKEND (OR TWO DAY WEEKEND FOR YOU) OF ALL TIME!!!!!!!!! the beer will flow like wine, the pocket rockets will fall from the sky like rain, and blackjack will be a common word............from the dealer when he sees our cards. "
See, you're like Lee and Pavlik, going into the weekend with super high hopes. Then, even if it turns out to be a good weekend, it won't live up to what you're expecting and will be a disappointment in retrospect. The Theory is the Truth and will bite you in the ass if you're not careful. If you go in with lower expectations, it will make it seem more fun. I'm just warning you.

Justin:
I was kidding you f____g horse's ass. I go in with mediocre hopes. Knowing at above all it will fun to drink and laugh at other people with friends. Nothing more nothing less. Hopefully it will be awesome, but I don't expect or need that. Maybe Jeff Ketchum does...

Brent:
As was I dillhole! I just wanted to plug the Waterboy Theory, get it started in people's minds and one day see it on Pardon the Interruption when they're talking about the next Red Sox-Yankees series. It's all part of my plan.
But Ketchum probably is coming in with high hopes. can we make him sleep in the car? Then, when he falls asleep, tape all the doors shut? Can we? Huh, huh? Can we? please?

Justin:
I know you were kidding dickhead. (sidenote. whatever happend to "dickhead"? One day it just vanished. No one says it anymore. It didn't slowly vanish like "rad", it was just gone. And FYI, I am bringing it with me to Vegas. I hope they let me carry it on. And I hope they like to be called dickhead whilst I order my free beer (I have coupons))
I say we try to take away Ketch's will to live by constantly berating him with mean comments and jokes until people like Kevin, Billy and others are like "Hey guys, thats enough, it's not funny" and "Stop you assholes, he's already crying" and "Why do you hate this kid so much?" Now that would be spicy.

Brent:
Yeah, you better hope they don't make you check "dickhead". What if they lose it? You'd be stuck the whole weekend with nothing but dickfor and dillhole. Still good, but not "dickhead" good.
I was thinking of making a "Stop Starig At Me, Ketchum" t-shirt to wear around. Do you think he'd get the point? I hope so.
I like your crying plan. It seems good. A little too good. Have you been planning this out? Complete with shovels and a treasure map? If so, I am in your debt sir...

Justin:
No treasure maps, but shovels to bury Ketchum's dead body in the desert outside of Vegas. Sometme early sunday morning, before dawn. Actually not dead body, kind of like how they killed Joe Pesci in casino, where he and his brother's bodies were still twitching as they poured the dirt on them. But I like the shirt idea to. but why don't we make it say "Stop staring at me!" leave out ketchum, he may still get it, and we can plead ignorance since it doestn say his name.

Brent:
Yes, I will make myself a stop staring at me t-shirt. You may also make one, but it will look pretty gay if we both have them. I might make a "stop being creepy" one instead. I don't know for sure. One or the other.
What is the room plan? Am I still staying at Urban's? Is Ketch in a car? Are we going to the topless pancake house? I need to know the game plan man. Man. man. Let me know about the shirts.

Ummm...if you read that whole thing...really, you might want to find something better to do with your time. I hear the senior center teaches you how to make a meeeaaan tapioca pudding. G'bye!!

Figure Skates...

When I was in college, I used to take a basic ice skating class. And, every morning, we had to line up to get skates. The norm was for dudes to get hockey skates and chicks to get figure skates. That's just the way the world works.

Unfortunately for me, I have weak ankles. Now, as almost no one knows, figure skates offer much more ankle support than hockey skates, so me and my weak ankles were forced to get figure skates everyday.

Now, as if this wasn't awkward enough for me, there was a lady there who made the ordering process an absolute living hell for me. Everyday it was the same thing...

Ice Skate Lady: What size?
Brent: 9
Ice Skate Lady: Hockey skates?
Brent: (drops head in shame) No...figure skates.
Ice Skate Lady: That will be fifty cents.

Until finally I just snapped.

Ice Skate Lady: What size?
Brent: 9
Ice Skate Lady: Hockey skates?
Brent: Listen up you skate whore. Every firkin' day you ask me the same damn question and everyday I have to demean myself to answer it. How about we stop this dance, and you remember that I need figure skates without me telling you, because if you ask me again if I want hockey skates, I'm going to shove that skate sharpener so far up your ass, your lungs will be sharp for the rest of your life. Are we clear? Huh?
Ice Skate Lady: That will be fifty cents there Nancy Kerrigan.
Brent: (jumping over counter to attack the Ice Skate Lady) I'll show you Nancy Kerrigan.

So, the point of the story is...yes, I wear figure skates when I skate...and I might have an anger management problem.

Soooo...Me and Phones...

Ring....ring...ring..

I reached over and picked up the phone without looking at the caller ID. "Hello."

"Hello, Brent."

"Yes."

"Hi, it's Grandma."

"Oh. Hi Grandma! How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well. What's new with you?"

"Oh, nothing too much new with me. I started dating a girl I really like about a month ago."

"That's great Brent."

"Anything new with you Grandma?"

"No, nothing really new with me in the romance department."

I shook my head furiously. What?? Romance department. Oh God, I don't like where this is headed.

"Yeah, after your Grandpa, I really don't think there will be too much new in the romance department for me."

Oh dear. Come on, no details, come on, no details, come on, no details!!

"But I'll be sure to let you know if there is anything on that front."

"Okay, that sounds great Grandma. I meant anything new in general, not really about your sex life, but thanks for the update. Great talking to you."

Maybe I just shouldn't answer the phone anymore...

Jerky Results!!

As everyone knows, I was in a very heated race for Mayor McJerky through KSTC45. After pulling ahead with what was thought an insurmountable lead, my fellow nerds and I retired with the lemon face at Williams for a night of celebration and patting ourselves on the back for a job well done. While resting on our laurels, one of my competitors got a whole nerdery to start voting for him and I lost in a landslide. And I thought that was the end of it.

But wait!

Today, I came home and there was a quasi-large package sitting in my mailbox. And what was it? That's right...5 packages of jerky, as a consolation prize. The sweetest word in the English language...consolation. It's like constellation...without the stars. But I digress. I got a sampler pack of all the different kinds of jerky they make:

Turkey
Original
Peppered
Teriyaki
Sweet & Hot (both...at the same time!!)

I wish I would have won the contest and seen how much jerky they would have given me, but this is nice too. It's not enough to throw a jerky party, but it's quite enough to taunt passing children with. And that's exactly what I'll do. So...to all who helped me in my glorious run to the consolation prize...thie jerky's for you!!

Business Cards

So, the company where I currently work is moving to a new location. Therefore, people are going to need new business cards with the new contact information for the company on them. The task of finding out who needs how many business cards fell to our CEO's administrative assistant. This is the actual "conversation" that took place when we discussed my business card needs...

Kara: Brent, you got a second.
Brent: (slowly turns around and nods, but slowly, as if to intimate he actually is busy)
Kara: I'm checking with people to see how many business cards they need that have the new office location on them. Most people get 200, but some people are ordering up to 500, if they have to give them to customers or vendors often. How many business cards do you think you'll need?
Brent: I think I gave a business card to my mom once.
Kara: (stunned silence)
Brent: (apathetic)
Kara: Okay. I'll put you down for one then.

Yep...I am an integral cog in the Sagebrush wheel. Hooray for Sports!

Christmas Cards Pt. I

Every year, my family receives Christmas cards from various friends, families and general well wishers. Sometimes the cards make me laugh, sometimes they make me cry and sometimes they make me want to ram the corner of a Nerf football through the cornea of my eye (awwww). Regardless, during this festive holiday season, I will be providing my little Nelstalkers with my thoughts on the cards we receive. Want to be recognized?? Send a card Blimp-o!!

1. J. Winch - Simple card, nice card stock, generic card, John's signature.

2. Gary and Lisa Kleinman - Obnoxious letter overall. I get the feeling they just moved to Texas. On one side, they included "The Night Before Christmas In, TEXAS, That Is", which made me want to gag reading it. Seriously vomit inducing. Then, they also gave us 'The Kleinman's Year in Review - 2005' which offered not one insight on any TV show. We did to hear that Lisa's mom just got a new PT Cruiser! (fan-cee!!) They talked about more Texas crap then you can stuff in one of those over-sized novelty Texas hats. It was absolutely ridonkulous.

*sidenote: the following was not a card, but a message left on the answering machine* B.C. called and left a message. She said she was sure you were back from Arizona now. Apparently, you haven't kept her in the loop. Also babbled on about how she doesn't have your new address and she'll get it when you send out the Christmas cards, because she's sure you already have them done, and then I grabbed a shrimp fork and severed my jugular.

I'm Back! In Pog Form! HOLLER!!

First off, I must apologize to my adoring fans for my lengthy absence. I was undergoing a very difficult medical procedure and the recovery length was much longer than anticipated. Luckily, everything went well, so now I can continue to update my glorious blog for all the "Nelstalkers" as I'm starting to call my my readers. And, if you're wondering what the surgery was, I don't really want to brag, but let's just say that Gary Busey and I now share a similar look in the tooth department.

I only really have one update/story that I want to talk about, but otherwise, I will try to please all the Nelstalkers by posting on a semi-regular basis. Ahhh...semi-regular...the constipated man's dream! Uhhh...right.

Anyhoo, for Thanksgiving I went to Alison's aunts house with her family. There were probably 25 people there, all of them family except for me and Alison's sisters future husband, which is just like family. Plus, it was my first time meeting them all besides her immediate family, so I had to strap on my fancy shoes, slap on some Aqua Velva and impress them, like David Blaine making himself levitate!

And boy, did I ever! Or, at least I didn't make a complete jackass of myself. The key word...complete. As all the Nelstalkers know, I am like the Koko B. Ware of small talk, so this presented a roughshod situation. But, I think I handled it admirably...highlights included:

- During dinner, stuffing my face with copious amounts of cheesy potatoes (a middle east delicacy)
- Having to fill out a "turkey feather" with what I was thankful for. I didn't think putting TV would endear myself to the family, and putting Alison would be a blatant attempt to curry favor from Alison and her family, so I decided to put 'making new friends'. 'Lascivious, Salacious, Outrageous, Courageous.
- Adriann (Alison's sister) putting TiVo on her feather
- When asked where Alison and I met, me stating Match.com and everyone staring at me like I'd just eaten the last fig leaf at a Vegetarian orgy.
- When asked where we first met when we got together from Match.com, me having to say we met in a parking lot and watching her family look at eachother in looks of shock and awe.

So, yeah. Then we came over to my house and proceeded to play drinking Trivial Pursuit. So, let the good times roll!